


Concentrate, Spike

by Spikes_Evilbint



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Concentrate Spike, M/M, Spikes_Evilbint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-01
Updated: 2009-12-01
Packaged: 2017-10-04 01:25:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spikes_Evilbint/pseuds/Spikes_Evilbint
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><strong>Summary</strong>  Ghost!Spike is struggling to adjust to his ghostly existence.  Not being able to touch anything...  When Angel finds him in his office one night, can he help Spike out of the predicament that he's gotten himself into?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Concentrate, Spike

**Author's Note:**

> **Title **Concentrate, Spike  
> **Author **spikes_evilbint  
> **Pairing **Spike/Angel  
> **Rating **NC-17  
> **Warnings** m/m slash - sexual senarios.  
> **Word Count **2355 - complete  
> **Beta and maker of the banner** The amazing [](http://dawnofme.livejournal.com/profile)[**dawnofme**](http://dawnofme.livejournal.com/) originally posted 22 Feb 09

_ **Concentrate, Spike** _

Here's another offering from my meme list.  This time it's for the lovely [](http://vyvsy.livejournal.com/profile)[**vyvsy**](http://vyvsy.livejournal.com/).  She often has to hide behind the sofa when reading my fics and so I decided to write something less scary and dark! 

**Title **Concentrate, Spike  
**Author **spikes_evilbint  
**Pairing **Spike/Angel  
**Rating **NC-17  
**Warnings** m/m slash - sexual senarios.  
**Word Count **2355 - complete  
**Beta and maker of the banner** The amazing [](http://dawnofme.livejournal.com/profile)[**dawnofme**](http://dawnofme.livejournal.com/)

**Summary**  Ghost!Spike is struggling to adjust to his ghostly existence.  Not being able to touch anything...  When Angel finds him in his office one night, can he help Spike out of the predicament that he's gotten himself into?

I do not own any part of Angel the Series.  I write purely for pleasure not profit and intend no infringement of copyright.  The plot is mine.

 

**Concentrate, Spike**

 

Angel paused outside the door to his office, cocked his head on one side and listened hard.  From within, he could hear Spike's voice.  Angel frowned and growled softly; he'd told Spike to stay out of there.  He put a hand on the door handle intending to burst in, but then he made out what Spike was saying.

"Concentrate, Spike, concentrate…"

Something about the almost pleading tone of Spike's words made Angel pause.  The blond sounded stressed – desperate even.  Angel could understand that Spike wasn't having a great time as a ghost, but surely it wasn't so bad.  He could do all sorts of cool stuff like walk through walls and…  Well that was it really, but, man, was that cool?

Angel heard a snarl from inside his office and pushed the door slightly ajar, hoping that Spike's vampiric hearing wasn't as sharp as it used to be now he was incorporeal.  Angel thanked the Powers That Be for giving him an office with well-oiled hinges on its door as it moved without a creak the few inches that he opened it.

"Come on you pathetic wanker…"  Spike gave a muffled sound – half sob, half laugh.  "You can do it.  Oh, shite, please do it!" 

His voice rose to a shout, Angel could wait no longer and flung open the door to see exactly what Spike was up to.  Spike started guiltily as Angel ran in.  He quickly wiped his hand across his face and glared at the intruder.

"Bleeding hell, Angel.  You scared me half to death."

"I don't think you could get much deader than a vampire ghost, Spike," retorted Angel.  _Is he crying?_  "Are you all right?"  That earned him a typical Spike 'look', one eyebrow raised and his lip curled into a sneer.  "Okay," said Angel.  "You're not happy with your situation.  I get that, but can you go and be not happy someplace else?"

Spike looked away.  "How can I sit on my chair—"

"_**My**_ chair," interrupted Angel.

"All right!  Your fucking chair!  But how can I sit on it when I can't touch anything?"  He kept his eyes averted and sniffed a couple of times.

Angel froze.  _Spike was crying_.  What the hell do you say to a depressed ghost?  "Um…"

"I thought I was getting better at it, you know?" Spike glanced at him for a moment before looking down at his lap. 

"Better at what?" asked Angel.  He walked a little closer. 

"Do you ever bleeding listen to anything I say?" snarled Spike, glaring at him with yellow eyes.  "Touching things," he added, slumping lower in the chair.

"Fred said that you picked up a coffee mug the other day," said Angel encouragingly.

Spike rolled his eyes.  "Oh, so now you're patronising me?  Piss off!"

"I'm sorry, Spike.  Have I got it wrong?  Can't you touch anything at all?  And why does it matter?"

Spike growled and bared his fangs at him.  "Why does it matter?  You miserable selfish git!"

Angel shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot.  "Did I say that last bit out loud?"

He looked so embarrassed that Spike couldn't help but give a snort of laughter.  "Ponce," he muttered. 

Angel chose to ignore him.

"Thing is," said Spike quietly, "I can touch things, but I have to concentrate really hard and it's difficult to keep it up for long."  He glanced down again and let out a shuddering sigh.

"So what were you trying to touch when I came in?" asked Angel, looking around the room.  "You weren't messing with my stuff?"

"Can't even mess with mine," mumbled Spike.

"Huh?" Angel walked over to the desk and hitched his ass on the corner of it so that he was facing the ghost.

Spike met Angel's eye and then let his gaze fall back to his lap.  Angel followed his gaze.  "Oh!"

"Yeah, oh!" muttered Spike grimly.  "Now you see my problem?  And I'm not going to be able to concentrate with you watching."

"Um…how did you…"  Angel waved a hand vaguely in Spike's general direction.

"Well I was pretty focussed to begin with.  Undoing the buttons was a piece of piss.  Then I sort of lost it and I can't get it back."

Angel's eyes widened.  "Get it back?"

Spike rolled his eyes.  "My concentration!  I can't get my concentration back."

"Oh."

"Right bleeding eloquent, aren't you?  Can see how you've ended up being head of an evil law firm and all, being such a smooth talker."

"You always did talk enough for the two of us, Spike."

"If you're not going to help, just bog off."

"Help?" squeaked Angel. 

The corners of Spike's mouth twitched.  "It's not like you haven't in the past," said Spike licking his lips.

"What?" Angel's eyes got wider still.  "But I was evil then; I didn't have a soul."

Spike scowled.  "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Well, I hurt you.  You weren't always willing.  I always felt guilty about it—"

"After your soul?" said Spike, his tone mocking.

Angel nodded.

"So are you telling me that you haven't done it since?"

Angel shook his head.

"What the bleeding hell is wrong with you?" Spike forgot his problems for a moment and stared incredulously at Angel.  "The fact it hurt was all part of the fun, you daft git." 

"But you were with Drusilla.  You didn't go looking for a man…"

"Oh, for the love of God!  Well I don't actually love him, 'cause I'm not sure of his stance on vampires either with or without a soul – or ghosts for that matter—"

"Is there a point to this?" grouched Angel.

"Seems to me that you missed out on a hell of a lot of fun."

"So…you've done it with…"  For some reason jealousy flared inside Angel's chest and he knew that he wouldn't like the answer.

"Other men?" said Spike almost cheerfully.  "Yep.  Lots.  Vampires, humans, and one time there was this demon, I wasn't exactly sure what it was – what with the four holes—"

"Shut up, Spike!" yelled Angel.

Spike grinned until his dick twitched and reminded him of his problem.  He stared sadly at his lap.  Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Angel sneaking a peek too.

"Any suggestions?" asked Spike, letting his hand go through the vase standing on the desk to emphasise the gravity of the problem.

"Well, you can sit on the chair, so can't you sort of rub against it?"

"Hump the chair! That's it?  That's your suggestion?"

Um…yeah," replied Angel sheepishly.

"Tried it," said Spike after a pause.  "Can't get the right angle or pressure without using my hands and as soon as I try to brace myself on them, I fall flat on my face.  Which I have to tell you, isn't pleasant in my present condition.  And why don't I fall through the floor? And before you say it, I've tried it on a couch and your bed, but it doesn't work."

"My bed?" asked Angel weakly.

"Yeah.  What of it?  You won't give me my own office so where am I supposed to go for a bit of privacy?"

Angel looked back at Spike's lap.  He had to admit that Spike's cock did look very pretty sticking up out of his jeans, like it was.  He could see the curly sandy coloured hair at its base and felt his own twitch in response to a male for the first time in over a hundred years. _ Dammit, Spike!  I'm not going to help you.  I'm really not. Not my problem is it?  _

"So do you think it might work the other way around?" Angel heard himself say.  _Oh, crap!_

"What do you mean?  Try humping the floor?  'Cause I have to say I'm not going to risk falling through that.  It was bad enough when Pavane pulled me down to the basement.  Hurt like buggery, that did."  He snorted.  "Well, a lot more than buggery."

Angel shook his head at Spike's babble.  "If you concentrate on making your cock hard—"

"Already is, love.  That's the whole problem, see?" mocked Spike.

"Oh, well, if you're going to make fun of me…"

Before Angel could move, Spike stood up.  "I'm sorry.  Don't go."

Angel looked up sharply at that. 

"I've been like this for sodding hours.  I'm open to any suggestions."

"You might want to sit back down, 'cause that just looks wrong," said Angel.

Spike looked down to see that without realising it, he had walked into the desk and his cock looked like it was sitting on the top of it.  Spike began to chuckle and moved swiftly back in the chair.  Angel got off the corner of the desk and walked around it until he was standing directly in front of Spike. 

"What I was going to say was – would it be easier just to concentrate on making your cock…um…solid."  Spike quirked an eyebrow.  "Get holdable," continued Angel.  Spike smirked.  "And not worry about trying to make your hand the same?"  He finished.

Spike wanted to tease his grandsire but knew that if he did he'd be stuck here for the rest of the night, frustrated and even if his hard on melted away of its own accord, he wasn't sure how long it would take before he could put it back in his jeans and button the fly.

"You might have a point there," agreed Spike.  "Only one problem with it."

"What's that?" asked Angel.

"I'll still have a aching hard on and no relief."  He grinned up at Angel.

Angel smiled back.  It was hard not to when Spike treated him to one of his full wattage sneer free versions.  He sank to his knees.  "I've got a couple of ideas of how we could tend to that."  He waggled the fingers of his right hand in front of Spike's face and then slowly licked his lips. 

Spike closed his eyes as his cock pulsed in anticipation.  "I just hope I can fucking concentrate long enough," he muttered.

"As I recall, it was never that long, Spike."

"Git," replied Spike, but he was smiling.

Angel watched Spike's face as he began to try to focus.  He rubbed a hand over the bulge in his pants when Spike caught his lip in his teeth and let his head fall back.  _He looks so damn sexy._

Angel shuffled forward and without thinking, rested a hand on Spike's knee.  It went straight through it and he almost fell face first in Spike's lap.

"I don't think it's working," he said, glancing at Spike. 

The blond regarded him through half closed eyes.  "'M not concentrating on my bloody knees, you pillock."

"Okay," said Angel slowly.  "Here goes."  He reached out and wrapped his large hand around Spike's cock.

Angel almost came in his pants at Spike's low moan of pleasure.

"Oh, shite, that feels so good," mumbled Spike, raising his hips.

Angel increased the pressure and began to stroke his hand up and down in long lazy movements.   He soon had Spike on the verge of incoherence, which wasn't a bad thing.

"Oh, please…don't…stop," gasped Spike.  "H…harder."

Angel dipped his head forwards, making sure that he put his other hand on the chair arm and not on Spike's body, and licked the moist head of Spike's cock.  For a second his hand felt like it was holding nothing and Angel reared up on his knees.  Then he could once more feel Spike's erection in his fist.

"Need to give a ghost a bit of warning if you're changing tactics," said Spike.  "Caught me unawares, it did."

Angel grinned and leant back down to finish the job that he'd started.  Spike lost the ability to speak about a minute before he came.  The yell he gave out as he did so, more than made up for it.  It echoed around the building and Angel was glad that it was after office hours.  It felt more than a little pervy to be blowing a ghost.

As he suckled at the softening cock, Angel briefly felt a hand run through his hair and then it was gone.  He gave Spike's dick one last lick before he tucked it away in Spike's jeans, and quickly did the buttons up.  He glanced up at Spike who was flopped back in the chair in what could only be described as a very satisfied manner.

"You touched me," said Angel.

"Yeah, pet.  I did."  Spike yawned.  "But I'm so shagged out that I lost it again.  Sorry."

Angel tried to kiss him but ended up kissing the back of the chair, which freaked both of them out.

"Gerrof me!"

"Should be get out of me," joked Angel.

"Wonder if I can concentrate hard enough for me to have to say that, next time," smirked Spike.

"You think there'll be a next time?"  Angel feigned disinterest.

"Oh, yeah.  I'm sure of it," said Spike.  "After all, practice makes perfect, and I've got to say that the end result tonight was a hell of a lot better incentive that picking up a bloody mug."

Angel stood up and rearranged his pants.  "Um…I need a…w–shower!  I need a shower," he said as he walked quickly to the elevator.

Spike jumped out of the chair and followed him.  "Can I watch?"

"No."

Spike walked into the elevator just as it began to rise.

"Tough.  I'm gonna anyway," he grinned at Angel and managed to brush his hand lightly across the taller vampire's confined erection, before losing it again.  "Yeah," he said. "Much more incentive here."

Angel tried to look annoyed but he couldn't.  He strode to the shower, casting off clothes as he went. 

"Hey," said Spike.  "I wonder if the water will go through me – don't have it too hot in case it doesn't."

"Spike, just shut up," grumbled Angel.

Spike pushed his head through the side of the shower cubicle, startling Angel into dropping the soap.  Spike laughed as Angel bent down to retrieve it.  "Oh, yeah, there's lots of incentive…"

The end.

**Author's Note:**

> Please take a moment to comment.


End file.
